Hurt and Comfort
by ZairaAlbereo
Summary: S5, Forever. Goes off-canon but mainly takes plot down another path. Joyce is dead & Buffy is just beginning to understand that. Learning that someone she'd never expected to shares her grief, she finds comfort where she'd never thought to look. SPUFFY!
1. Helplessness & Denial

**Chapter 1 - Helplessness & Denial**

"You have got to be kidding me." Xanders tone was one of outraged anger.

Spike sighed. He'd hoped to be able to come by unnoticed. He didn't want to stir trouble. That wasn't what Buffy needed. And the nibblet. The little one had to be devasted. "I'm not going in." He bit out in his defensive.

"And you're not leaving those." Xander announced this like a command.

Spike just barely managed to stop himself from hiding the flowers he was holding behind his back. He wasn't doing anything wrong! He was here to pay his respect to a Lady, he didn't need the allowance of Harris for that.

"You actually think you're gonna score points with Buffy this way?"

His hands clenched around the stems. Joyce was dead. Couldn't the monkey just give him a break? All he wanted to do was bring the woman who'd made hot chocolate for him and listened to his heartache some flowers.

"This isn't about Buffy. " He pressed out, his teeth clenched.

"Bull. We're all hip to your doomed obsession." Xander snarked.

"They're for Joyce." He couldn't believe it. It were flowers. It was what you did when people died. Why did they had to make this harder? Did they think he LIKED being here? Knowing that he wasn't welcome, would never be welcome again? That he was the last person the girl, for whom his heart was breaking so unexpectedly for, would want to have around to comfort her? He briefly pressed his eyes close in exasperation. He really didn't want to lose it in front of the whelp, and therefore he nearly missed Xanders next comment. Nearly. Unfortunately.

"Like you cared about her."

That struck. Spike really tried to hold back his frustration and anger, and he swallowed hard as Willow stepped between them. He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw to keep from shouting at the stupid git. From throwing a punch, he knew would hurt him more than anybody else. From doing something that would deeply disrespect the woman he had come to honor.

"Care?" He pressed through his teeth. " Joyce was the only one of the lot of you that I could stand."

"And she's the only one with a daughter you wanted to shag. I'm touched."

At that Spike nearly lunged at Xander so great was his urge to rip out his throat. Joyce had been a nice person, he'd come by the house quite some time for a little chat without the Slayer ever to know. Now she was dead and what this bloody wanker was spilling out of his stupid gob was just disrespectful, damnit! Sick from his helplessness, not being able to act on his anger he hissed. "I. Liked. The Lady. Understand, monkey boy? She was decent. She didn't put on airs. She always had a nice cuppa for me…"

At that Willow gave him a sad smile. She had the feeling Spike honestly just was here about Joyce. But Xander never could cut him some slack, it wasn't in his nature. She almost thought she was seeing something like tears in the vampires eyes as he continued.

"... And she never treated me like a freak." Spike finished. Immediately knowing he had left himself wide open with that one.

"Her mistake." Xander predictably spat with an almost cruel smile.

Spike had enough. He knew he couldn't hurt the boy and he wasn't going to argue and swear to his honorable intentions. He had had enough scorn and mockery for his heartfelt grief and he somehow didn't feel as thick-skinned as he had learned to be today.

"Think what you want." He stated tiredly. Throwing the flowers to the ground - not without regret. Then he turned and walked away. _Look at me. William the Bloody fighting for the right to bring a dead woman flowers!_ But he had wanted to, because he knew that Joyce would have liked it. Obviously the git was too stupid to see that this was not about him.

Willow looked at Xander who hadn't stopped ranting, then bend to pick up the flowers.

"The guy thinks he can put on a big show and con Buffy into being his sex monkey." Xander still looked affronted.

Willow sighed. "Xander...!" She interrupted his rant and he looked at her questioningly. "He didn't leave a card."

Willow thought that pretty much said it all. If Spike would have wanted to show off, he obviously wouldn't have done it like that. She smiled sadly looking at the pretty flowers in her hands. They even looked like someone had plucked them himself. It was strangely endearing and she didn't want to cheat Joyce out of a gift she believed had truly come from the heart.

She turned back inside the house and put the flowers in a vase without a word.

***************************

Buffy stood at the kitchen sink, absent-mindedly scrubbing at a plate while starring out through the window into the darkness. They had talked about the obituary and if there would be a wake and it all felt so absolutely unreal. This was so far from anything to do with her mother. She still couldn't grab the concept that she wouldn't come back. She was her mother… she was there… she always was.

Maybe this was just a dream. Maybe she was just on a business trip and she would call later to see if they were alright, and then she would come back. She would come through the door, sighing and a little exhausted and kick of her shoes, because her feet hurt and she would call that she was home and smile and ask if there had been any incidents while she was gone and how they'd been. She would complain about the mess in the kitchen Dawn had made with her experimental cooking, she should really see to it that she cleaned that up before… her gaze went down to the plate that was most definetly clean by now. She didn't know how long she had been scrubbing at it, but the skin of her hands was already wrinkling. She put the plate in the colander and stared at the sink for a moment not knowing what she was supposed to do now.

Aimlessly she went into the living room. Willow was shuffling stuff around rather aimlessly herself and Buffys eyes fell on a bunch of flowers, daisies mainly, that stood in a vase on a side table.

"They are pretty." Buffy said with a small smile, not seeing Willows nervous look as she followed the direction of Buffys gaze. "Mom likes daisies… liked… daisies. She liked daisies."

It was in this moment that Xander came into the room, seeing Buffy absently touching the heads of the flowers. "Did you have to put them here?" Xander asked exasperatedly looking at Willow.

Buffy looked up with a confused frown.

"It's -" Willow began, but Xander interrupted her.

"SPIKE brought them!" Xander spat looking towards Buffy. "Can you believe the gall of the guy?"

Buffy's eyes widened. "S-spike? Why would he…"

"Well, I thought that was obvious." Xander said. "we should throw them out."

"No."

Xander looked at her like she had grown a second head.

Buffy swallowed and blinked against the moisture rising up in her eyes. "They're for Mom. She… they're for mom." She whispered before she left the room without looking at either of them.

TBC


	2. Is There A Crumb In Crumbling?

A/N: It is true after al!l Reviews are a great inspiration. So here's Chapter 2, thanks to **onlyone87** - my first reviewer ever. I have been writing for a long time, but only now finally had the courage to post something. So to you out there: A little encouragement? I don't want to blackmail or anything. I'm warming up to this story - which really started out as kind of an experiment - and have a feeling where I want to take it now. But still, if you are reading and like it at all - please review! I would be really grateful!

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**Chapter 2 - Is There A Crumb In Crumbling?**

The day of the funeral was a bright sunny autumn day. The air was fresh and slightly cool and smelt of mould and earth. The service had been private and short and Buffy was sitting in the front row, holding on to Dawns hand, mostly drowning out any words that were spoken.

Her mother lay in a casket of gleaming wood that stood at the front of the little chapel. There were flowers, lots of flowers, many white. They were nice. A picture of her mother stood on the closed lid. She was smiling. She looked young. She didn't look dead at all.

Dawn was clenching her hand. She was crying. Buffy couldn't stop staring at the casket. Her mother was lying in there and it seemed so wrong. Having her lying in a closed box. It would be so cramped in there, and so dark. They would bury it in the ground. With her mother in it. It sounded horrible. Like a nightmare. Not being able to move, or to breath. But then she remembered that her mother wasn't breathing anymore, that she would not move ever again.

People were getting up and Buffy was startled out of her thoughts. The service was over and the mourners were moving. Buffy got up to, unsure what was expected of her now. The bearers were picking up the coffin and Giles came up next to her. She was relieved to see him. Giles would know what was expected of her now.

Giles laid a hand on her shoulder and took hold of Dawns free hand, squeezing it.

„Let's go." he said quietly as the bearers passed them with the casket and he guided her and Dawnn along behind them.

They followed the casket down the aisle through all the people wearing black with sorrowful faces. They all looked foreign to her, even Willow and Xander. Like they were strangers simply with faces she knew.

They went out of the chapel and into the graveyard under a brilliant blue sky, not a single cloud disturbing its infinity. It was strange. Everything looked so different in the sunlight. Restfield was a graveyard she frequented almost every night, and yet everything around her looked unfamiliar.

They arrived at the patch with the freshly dug grave. A deep hole in the grass, the fresh earth in a pile beside it. The mourners enclosed the grave on three sides and the casket was lowered in it. Buffy had the sudden urge to stop them. This would be her last chance to see her mother. But the casket was already half down and she thought it would probably be difficult to get it out again and then it would hold up the whole thing and everybody would think it strange. And then while she was still debating with herself, the bearers stepped back from the grave having lowered the coffin to its ground.

It was too late. The priest was stepping up and saying words that she had heard before, in movies and such. „Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." But she was not ready yet. Why were they all in such a hurry? Why couldn't they just wait a second?

She felt Giles hand on her shoulder again and looked up to see all eyes on her. Obviously they were expecting her to do something. Dawn looked at her with tear-stained eyes. But she didn't know. She didn't know what they wanted. Giles gently pushed her to the edge of the grave where a shovel was sticking in the pile of earth.

She knew what it was about now. She had seen this too. She picked the shovel up with slightly shaking hands. Most of the soil had already fallen when she waved it over the open grave. She felt clumsy. Giles took the shovel from her hand and she was thankful that she was able to step back and that the attention moved to someone else.

People came up and trickeled earth into the grave, then coming to her and Dawn, shaking her hand and telling them how sorry they were for their loss. Dawn was still crying, so people seemed more comfortable to concentrate on her. A lot of these people she didn't even know, but she tried to smile and at least give them a thankful nod. It was a relief when they were finally all gone and she was standing at the grave alone.

Willow came up behind her, asking her if she wanted to come with them. They were ready to go and would take Dawn with them to their dorm, like they had agreed to the night before. Buffy just shook her head. She really just wanted them all to go. They all seemed to expect her to say something or do something and she felt too tired to act her part. Everybody seemed to wait for her to lead the way, make the decisions, like she always did. Ready to fall in line, to be helpful, as long as she would hand out their tasks. But she didn't know! She didn't know what should be done now. This was what Mom did. She took care of those things. Buffy didn't even have a clue what 'those things' were...

The bearers came back to the grave and started to fill it up with the soil as Buffy stood there and saw the casket slowly vanish. When they were done, they nodded respectfully in her direction and left, leaving her alone at the dark patch of turned earth under which her mother would lay buried from now on.

It was kind of peaceful. There was birdsong and a light breeze rusteling the leaves of the old oaks that towered a little to her left. The light started to get that golden-orange tint of evening and if she could just stay here and not think, maybe she would be alright.

***

Spike was sitting in the open door to his crypt, leaning against the frame with his knees bent. Absent-mindedly dragging on his fag, he watched the shadows getting longer. The entrance facing east had been one of the crypts selling points. Or rather one of its squatting points, if you wanted to be meticulous.

He was waiting. And he was thinking. It was Joyces funeral today and thankfully it was a bright and cloudless day. It gave him the excuse he needed - if only to himself – to not go. He was so tired of their contemptuous looks and hateful insults. Of the helpless rage it awoke in him, for which he had no outlet besides some brute demon kill which only helped to dampen it.

But he would have gone. If the sky had been downcast and grey and it would have been safe to go without loosing his dignity under a smoking blanket. He would have gone and paid his respect to a woman he had liked and that had liked _him - _even if none of the Scoobies would ever believe that. He would have ignored them and bit his tongue and stick it bloody well out! But he couldn't. Which was really too bad.

That's why he waited.

***

She had not shed a tear yet. She had tried even. Last night when she was lying in her bed staring at the ceiling, she had tried. She felt horrible because she wouldn't cry. Her mother was dead and she did not even cry. How could that be? What kind of person did not cry when her mother died?

It was getting chilly. The sun had sunken behind the trees and dusk approached. But the prospect of going home to the house, her mothers house, and find it deserted held no appeal.

She felt a vampire approach, but didn't reach for her stake. She knew who this was, could tell him apart, although she tried not to wonder about that in any way. She felt his presence linger, somewhere in the shadows, invisible, but he didn't appear.

"You can come out. I know you're there, you know." She finally called out. And a moment later Spike shuffled over slowly, his head bowed.

"I didn't want to disturb you. I was going to wait till you were gone."

"Why are you here anyway?" she asked, fixating the grave infront of her.

He gave a small bitter laugh, looking away from her. "Yeah, why would I? Guess you're right, no reason and no right." He shook his head at himself. "I'll leave you to–"

"You brought her flowers." Buffy burst out, still not looking at him. But he could hear the strain in her voice now. Hell, he could almost smell the tears. Almost, non was shed.

He didn't know what to say really. How did she even know about the flowers? "I didn't want-" he began but she interrupted him.

"They were pretty. She always liked Daisies." She said in a small voice.

"I know." Spike said.

They stood frozen in silence together for a while, Spike still half turned to go but watching her out of the corner of his eye, while Buffy starred at the freshly turned earth in front of her.

Finally Spike swallowed back the knot in his throat and turned back to her. "Listen, Slayer…" he began hesitantly. "I know you don't want me around… and I respect that… I mean, this is privat. I just… I really… I liked Joyce an I just wanted to pay her my last respects. Didn't want to intrude or anything…"

There was still no reaction from Buffy and Spike ducked his head even deeper. "Well, yeah… I'll just go then."

He had not made more than three steps away from the grave when he heard her voice in a tiny, almost inaudible whisper.

"Please, don't."

He stopped in his tracks, starring at the space ahead of him in bewilderment. Then he took a deep breath and turned around. "Is there something I can do?" he asked.

Buffy remembered another time not so long ago, when he had asked her the same thing, finding her crying on her porch steps. She had been afraid that her mother was ill then. A wave of nausea passed through her as she understood how legitimate that fear had been, that she should have known then that she would stand at her mothers grave a few months later.

Spike had held a shotgun then, and she still wondered if he had actually planned to use it on her that night. She remembered being quite mean to him before that same night, still he had sat next to her on the steps trying to comfort her. It was strange how much his clumsiness had been so.

He obviously wasn't in his element tonight either. He stood a few steps away, hands buried in his coat pockets as he looked at her tentatively, unsure what to do.

"Could you just... stay here?" She didn't know why she asked. She couldn't even stand being around her closest friends, and this was Spike. Whom she loathed really. But at least Spike didn't expect anything from her – well, apart from admitting she had feelings for him, which of course was ridiculous... but he didn't look at her for directions, didn't expect her to march in front, having all the answers... while she didn't have a fucking clue!

And her Mom... well she always seemed to have this soft spot for him. She didn't know why, but she had. She hesitated. Then she looked at him for the first time. „Would you...you know, tell me about her?" Buffy asked softly.

Spike tilted his head to the side and watched her a moment as if searching for something. His voice was soft when he spoke. "She was your mother, Buffy. You knew her better than anyone. She loved you with all her heart and I know you did too. I was just someone who liked her hot chocolate and a spot of conversation."

"You visited her? When I wasn't there?"

He ducked his head, unsure of her reaction. "Just now and then… you know, when I was bored. Or when my TV was broke we'd watch Passions together. She liked to talk about it, you know, always had these theories."

"You liked her."

He smiled at her sadly. "Yeah, pet. I did."

"And she liked you..." Spike might have been offended by her surprised tone, but he let it pass.

"Don't know. Might just have been lonely sometimes. Not much friends in Sunny D."

"I wasn't there. I should have been home more often. Always being preoccupied with the slaying and world saving, I wasn't a good daughter."

"Bollocks! You grew up, went to College, it's what kids do. She was proud of you."

"She was?" Buffy asked in a small voice. „She told you that?"

"Always reminded me, that you could kick my ass."

"Better not forget that." She smiled at him wryly then. It was her first smile since that dreadful day, although she wasn't aware of that.

They stood there in silence for a while, until Buffy sank to the ground, starting to feel the exhaustion of the day.

"You alright, Slayer?" Spike asked coming up next to her. "Maybe you should... you know... go home, get some sleep..."

"I can't."

"Why's that?"

She sighed and buried her face in her hands. God, she was so tired.

"I don't know what to do there."

"Well, looking at you, crawling into bed sounds like a good start to me."

"No, I mean afterwards. What do I do then?"

"You get up. Take it one day at a time."

"I don't know how!" She cried, distress evident in her voice. "I don't know how to do these things! And Dawn is angry or crying, and my Dad didn't even call and everybody is looking at me, expecting me to pick up where Mom left off... and I JUST DON'T KNOW HOW!!" She yelled the last words slumping forwards, hands clawing at the earth and panting heavily.

Spike sank down beside her and without thinking about it reached out his hand, cautiously stroking down her back. "It's alright. You don't have to know all the answers right now. You'll find them along the way. You're strong Buffy..."

"NO! No, I'm not! Not like this!" Buffy wailed. "Mom was. She knew what to do, and I don't! And I can't do this without her! I need Mom!" She started to shake violently as something seemed to break inside her. "I can't! I can't! I need...oh god, please Mommy!! Mommy, please, please... I can't... Mommy!!" And then the tears finally came, erupted in heartbroken sobs and shudders as she screamed her misery and fear and grief into the night.

Spike reached for her, not thinking about it. It was an instinct, really, that he should have lost a long time ago along with his soul, to reach for someone in pain and hold him. Buffy clawed at him and screamed, her words no longer comprehensible but the message could not have been clearer.

Finally her trashing ceased and she slumped against him, shuddering and heaving with her sobs. He held her in his arms, eyes closed and almost not daring to breath. Her smell was intoxicating, even in her misery, but he stopped himself from pulling her nearer, letting her decide how close she would get.

He didn't know how long it took, how long they sat like this, but in the end her gasps became calmer, slower and she just lay still in his embrace, not moving. She might have even started to fall asleep when a harsh voice came out of the shadows.

"What the fucking hell do you think you're doing?"

TBC

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	3. The Scariness Of What Once Has Been

**A/N:** Thank you, onlyone87, rkm, DramioneLurver and behindURlies for the reviews!

It's so much appreciated, I can't describe it. I have a little dance, not unlike Xanders, for every review I get – yeah, I know, it's pathetic... but there you are.

Speaking of Xander, someone said I should lay off him... which is kind of strange, because most of Xanders dialogue came directly from the original episode. So... not my fault, guys.

Anyway, here's more. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 3 – The Scariness Of What Once Has Been**

„_What the fucking hell do you think you're doing?"_

Spike shut his eyes and cursed under his breath. Of course this would be the moment, his Majesty the giant GIT would come barging in and BOLLOCKS it all up!! Spike clenched his teeth and raised his head to face his fuming grandsire.

„Do you mind?" he hissed, inclining his head to the mess in his lap.

„Spike, if you think you can take advantage of Buffy now, because she's weak..." Angel thundered.

Spike snorted. „Yeah, because that's me in a nutshell. Always waiting until they hit rock bottom before finishing them off. Until they are weak with grief and _insane_!" he sneered.

He looked down to his lap, where Buffy was slowly coming to. Here we go... He sighed.

-

Buffy raised her head, blinking in confusion. What was going on? Where was she? Oh God! She drew back with a moan. What was she doing, lying in Spikes lap? Spike! That was wrong in so many ways she didn't even know where to start! That's when the other voice registered in her conscience and she looked up .... Angel! Angel was here! ...And he had seen her lying... oh God!

She scrambled to her feet. „Angel!"

„Buffy." Angels face softened a little and when Buffy took the three steps towards him he pulled her to him, embracing her. „Buffy. I heard what happened." He whispered. „And I'm so sorry. I came as fast as I could."

Spike snorted. „Joyce died three days ago and this is the fastest you could manage? You must have been breaking every bleedin speed limit between here and LA."

„Shut up, Spike! And piss off. You're the last thing Buffy needs around right now, and if I find you anywhere near her again, I swear I will finish what I started after Dru brought you home."

Something dark passed through Spike's eyes and he swallowed before he glared at Angel. „Not going to ask the Slayer, what _she_ wants, Angelus?" he spit out with a hint of defiance.

„That _is_ what she wants, you gobshite! Now get out of my eyes!"

Spike clenched his teeth so hard, they were at the point of breaking. He cast a look at Buffy, but she just stood motionless in Angels arms, her face buried in his chest, not giving a sign that she was hearing anything of what was said.

„Fine!" He growled. „Not like I've WANTED her to snot all over me!"

„I can honestly say you're the biggest asshole I've ever met, Spike."

„Yeah. You would know all about _that_, wouldn't you?" He turned around stiffly and mumbled, knowing Angel's vampire hearing would pick it up. „Might concentrate more on the girl on your chest, don't think she's interested in some of your more sordid fantasies."

And with that Spike merged with the shadows as seamless as he had appeared earlier that evening.

Angel kept his eyes glued to the spot he had seen his irritating grandchilde vanish. He wished he could just kill him and be done with it, but something had always held him back. He sighed. There were more important matters at hand. If Buffy was hanging around Spike, she must be really out of it. And it would be his job to put her back on track.

***

It had taken a while, but Buffy had finally come out of her clinging state and was now sitting next to Angel under one of the oaks, listening to what he was saying.

„You need to be strong now Buffy, I know you will get through this. It looks hard now, but you've survived worse. You have to be strong for Dawn and you can't let this interfere with your duty."

Buffy nodded, feeling the now familiar cold seep back into her bones. She felt like sitting in a pool with the water slowly rising and every one of her limbs was made out of lead.

„But I am here to help you. I can stay as long as you want."

Buffy relaxed a little at this words. Maybe with Angel back... „How about forever?" she said with a small smile and Angel returned it. But it looked a little forced.

„Buffy, you know I want to, more than anything else in the world, but we agreed it was for the best, didn't we?"

„Well, not really... you-"

„Yes, but you _know_ it is for the best, don't you?"

Buffy sighed. „I guess."

He was right of course. He could not stay. They weren't _that_ anymore, and she could not expect him to put his life on hold just because of her and her problems. Now when they were just...

„_You'll never be friends."  
_

Yeah. Right. And what did _Spike _of all people know about friendship. He was a vampire! Vampires didn't have friends! Did they?

„I'll take you home."

Buffy once more was startled out of her thoughts and she guiltily realised that she had not been paying attention to his words the last few minutes. She sighed. She didn't want to go home. But what else could she do? Angel was right. She couldn't very well sit in the graveyard for the rest of her life now, could she?

They walked, mostly in silence, back to Revello Drive. When they arrived at the front porch, Angel stopped and turned her around by her shoulders.

„I can come by tomorrow night." he said.

Buffy looked at him. She really didn't want to be alone in the house right now. „You could stay here." she said in a small voice.

Angel sighed and gave her a pained smile. „I think it's better if I don't. I better go back to the mansion. But I'll be back at nightfall, okay?"

„Okay. I think Giles will be over by then too, and possibly Willow and Tara. Dawn is staying with them tonight."

Angel nodded. Then he squeezed her shoulder and turned, vanishing in the night just like Spike had done before, but maybe with a little more flourish.

-

Buffy fished for her keys and hesitantly opened the front door. The moment she stepped over the threshold into the dark house, it hit her like a freight train.

She was alone now.

The one person who she could always turn to, who always knew what to do, who would hug her and tell her she was loved, who had known her all her life and would always, always be there for her – was gone. And she was alone now.

The house seemed suddenly emptier than ever before. Like no one had lived here in centuries. And then again it looked like it was frozen in time. Her mothers coat was hanging at the coat rack, like she would come down tomorrow and grab it on her way out for work. The book she'd been reading lay on the side table next to the couch, an old postcard marking the page where she had stopped reading the last time. Buffy went up the stairs, still in the dark, and went into her mothers room. She looked at her perfume on the dressing table. Her hairbrush. Clothes, she had worn neatly folded on a chair. The room smelled like her, which should have been comforting, but it wasn't, because she WAS NOT THERE. She was laying in a casket out in the graveyard. All alone.

In a sudden flashback, Buffy saw her mothers vacant eyes staring at nothing, as she was lying on the couch. She swayed. Then she all but ran out of her mothers room and into her own, locking the door behind her. She was panting. The feeling of abandonment and loneliness was so overwhelming that she felt like she would suffocate in it.

She crouched at the head of her bed, knees pulled to her chest, rocking slightly and trying to breath.

She would take a breath, and then another breath and another. How many breath would it take her until it stopped. Would it stop? She whimpered and rocked faster, trying to concentrate on getting air into her lungs.

That's when she felt it. The familiar tingling at the back of her conscience. Relief flooded her like a tidal wave. He was here. Right now, she didn't care that she hated him. He was there. She wasn't alone.

Bursting into tears for the second time that night, Buffy pulled the sheets up over her body and coiled up in a ball on her bed. It were tears of grief, but it were also tears of relief. Concentrating on the tingling feeling, like one might concentrate on a spark in the darkness, she rocked herself to sleep.

-

Spike stood under his tree in the front yard, cursing his grandsire. The git had left her! What the bloody hell was wrong with him? Riding into town on his big white horse, with his big white hat on his big stupid forehead, practically dragging her out of his arms – okay, so maybe he was exaggerating there, but still... - and then abandoning her!

Spike was furious and when he smelled her tears and heard her sobs, his heart broke all over again. He wanted to go to her, take her in his arms again. He wanted to tell her that he would be there for her, that he would do whatever she needed. That she wasn't alone. But he couldn't. His long standing invitation had been removed. He wasn't welcome anymore. Not who she needed. The last person who she needed. That's what Angel had said. But then what did the bloody poofter know?

Spike stayed, leaning under the tree until the birds were waking, announcing the approaching mornin. Until his vampire senses reached a level of alarm he couldn't ignore any longer, warning him of the deadly rays that would soon crawl over the horizon.

TBC


	4. Broken And Gone

A/N: Okay, this is for Celina and Sailor Sayuri, who asked for an update so nicely and enthusiastically, that I couldn't disappoint them. It's not horribly long, but it's something. Next chapter will have some more Buffy and Spike interaction. Promise!

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**Chapter 4 – Broken And Gone**

_It was still dark when Buffy came down the stairs and into the hall. There where lights on in the kitchen and the livingroom, and there where voices. Who was here in the middle of the night? Buffy wondered. Or was it the middle of the morning?_

„_She's just not herself right now." _

_Was that Willow? Why was Willow here? Did something happen to Dawn? _

„_I still think she's acting strange right now."_

_Xander. He sounded impatient. Buffy followed the sound of their voices into the kitchen. There were Xander and Willow facing each other over the counter._

„_Hey. What are you doing here?" Buffy asked. There was no reply. They didn't even look at her, but kept conversing with each other."_

„_You don't think she would up and run away again, do you?" Xander asked, his voice a little hushed. _

_Willow bit her lip when she looked at him. „I-I don't know... no. No, I don't think she would be that irresponsible." _

_Xander raised his eyebrows at her, as if challenging her to admit, she didn't believed her own words._

„_It's just... it's not an easy time for her. She'll be back to herself soon. She's a fighter! The Chosen One!"_

_Buffy felt uncomfortable listening to them talk about her. Hadn't they seen her? „Ehm... hey! Hi! I'm up..." She tried to get their attention, but to no avail. Willow and Xander kept ignoring her._

_It started to become really spooky. „Hey, Wills... where is Dawn, is she with Tara?" Buffy tried again to get into their conversation, that now circled around their worries if she would be up to slaying. „Wills?" Buffy reached out to touch Willows hand, that laid on the counter top, but as soon as she touched, or rather would have touched it, Willow's form dissolved. She just faded like a shadow or a ghost. Buffy stared at the place where her best friend had just stood dumbfounded and a little scared. _

„_Xander!" She wiped around. „What... what happened... Willow!" But Xander didn't look at her, nor did he look concerned about the vanishing act of his friend. Instead he went over to the fridge, opening it ans starting to rummage around. _

„_Xander!" Buffy cried, starting to feel really wigged. She went to him and reached for his shoulder. But her hand went right through it as he to faded into nothing within a second._

_Buffy stared at the empty space before her speechless. „Xander? Willow? Are you there? Can you hear me?" There was no answer, but new voices came from the living room. Buffy hastened towards them and found Giles sitting in the living room. Thank God._

„_Giles! Something has happened! Xander and Willow, they just vanished! Into thin air!" she exclaimed. But her watcher didn't show any signs, that he had even heard her. He looked away from her over, to the far corner. _

„_Giles?" Buffy stepped in front of him, facing him. „Did you hear what I just said? They dissolved! That's not of the good!"_

„_I'm sure Buffy will manage." Giles said. Huh? What was he talking about? _

„_Giles?"_

„_She knows her duty. And she knows how important it is. She is an exceptional strong girl."_

_Well, that was a nice thing to say, but Buffy right now didn't feel very strong. She felt confused and frustrated and started to get really annoyed with all of them ignoring her and not listening to her. Why wouldn't he listen?_

„_Giles." she said louder this time and determined to not be ignored any longer._

„_I wish I had your confidence." Buffy froze when she heard that voice behind her. She turned, staring at her former boyfriend, her first love... and he was looking right through her at Giles! „She is still very young." Angel continued, moving past Buffy towards the couch, completely ignoring her presence. „She is impressionable, and I fear she might associate with the wrong people. I told you before, how ruthless he is. He is dangerous and Buffy doesn't see that. He takes advantage of any sign of weakness. She can't afford to let her guard down with him. He is a monster. A killer. The darkest of creatures..." Angels voice boomed in the living room._

_What was going on here? Why was Angel even here? And Giles? She had about enough now. She went over to the couch, grabbing Giles by the arm, what would have been rather roughly. A strangled sound of anguish escaped her throat, as She found him gone in the blink of an eye. She looked at angel frantically and strangely enough, he seemed to look directly at her._

„_You know how I wished I could stay!" he said, before he vanished before her eyes, slowly fading, lingering until he was completely gone. Once more the house was silent. Buffy's heart was beating wildly in her chest. What the hell was happening? Her breathing was fast and harsh and she felt the first touches of panic, crawling up her skin. She couldn't... she couldn't... she didn't know what she couldn't, but she stormed to the door and blindly tore it open, running out into the night._

_She ran into the night, into the complete darkness. Darker that she'd ever seen it. She ran and ran, why was it so dark? Everything around her looked unfamiliar and scary. She had never been afraid of the dark, why was she now? She ran faster, trying to escape the feeling that she was lost, and then she ran straight into something solid. _

_She stumbled slightly and looked up into the most startling blue eyes. They were looking at her concerned._

„_Don't worry. I know it's still dark, but I know the darkness. It's were I live. Don't be afraid that you're lost, I will take you home." Spike reached out and softly stroked down her cheek. „But you can't stay in the darkness, Buffy. You have to look out for dawn."_

Buffy woke up with a start. The grey light of morning was creeping through the half closed curtains and for a moment she just lay motionless, trying to feel numb and not start thinking. But of course, that attempt was fruitless. Images crashed down on her. Her mother. The casket. Angel. Dawn... something struck her at that thought. Spike. What had that been yesterday? And the dream. It had almost felt like a slayer dream. But what was the message? That her friends would suddenly vanish? That she had to concentrate back on her duty as the Chosen One?

_He is dangerous and Buffy doesn't see that. He takes advantage of any sign of weakness. She can't afford to let her guard down with him. He is a monster. A killer. The darkest of creatures..._

Was that it? Was the dream a warning not to let her guard down with Spike? Not that she would again. That had so been a one time thing, and she'd been not herself, like Willow had said it. She just had to get back to be herself.

But how would she do that, when she felt a million miles away from that girl? She had fought against monsters since she was fiveteen, yes. She had lost her one true love, had even died for a few minutes. But she had always been a girl. A girl with a home and a mum she could come back to. Even when she ran away the summer she was sixteen, there had been a place that was her home, and somewhere deep inside her she had known she could and would eventually go back. There was always a way to make things right. Until now. Nothing she could do, no amount of wishing and hoping or grovelling and apologizing would bring her mum back. Her parents were gone, and there was nobody to hold her and guide her and catch her if she'd fall. It was up to her now.

***

When Willow and Tara brought Dawn over in the afternoon, Buffy had done four loads of laundry, hoovered the house, dusted every surface and cleaned all the windows. She hadn't even stopped to eat, but then the prospect of it made her feel sick. Her bones and muscles were exhausted with a different kind of strain than slaying and it felt good. Her body felt numb and even her mind didn't seem up for much action anymore.

So she just sat on the couch and let Willows and Taras voices wash over her, adorning them with a 'hm.' or 'yeah' now and then. Dawn of course had gone straight to her room, without even glancing in her direction. Buffy didn't know why exactly, but she seemed to blame her. Probably because it had been her that told her. Bearers of bad news... there obviously was some truth in there.

She should probably do something about that, but she had no clue how. The two times she had tried to talk with Dawn, since then, she had either ignored her completely, or screamed at her to 'get out'. So she just sat on the couch, not moving, playing with a thread on her sleeve and watching the patterns the late evening sun was painting on the carpets.

***

The sun had just vanished behind the tree tops, when the door to his crypt was banged open. Startled Spike jumped up from the sarcophagus, where he had been dozing, facing the intruder warily. When he saw which demon had come wandering into his home, he rolled his eyes.

Angel didn't take notice of him at first, but let his gaze wander over the sparse interior of his crypt. Spike sighed. He had lived with Angelus for twenty bloody years, and even if Angel might deny any similarities between himself and his soulless counterpart, Spike knew too much about his own kind and his grandsire to ever have bought that bollocks. To Spike, Angel was nothing more than Angelus on a leash. He was guilt-ridden, sure. But he was still the same self-important, arrogant wanker he'd been before. Right now, he was trying to make Spike feel inferior. Spike knew that. He only wished knowing would prevent him from letting Angel get to him.

„You never had any style." Angel said disdainfully, while still not deigning to look at him.

Spike walked over to the little fridge he had stowed in the corner. He had gotten it through Clem, a poker-buddy of his, who's brother had good connections to the more seedy dealers in town.

„Did the detective shit not work out for you?" He asked, grabbing a bag of blood from the appliance. „Trying interior design now? Never mind, we're not all cut out for the hero, and you've always been a bloody poofter. Might as well come finally out about it."

„You never could shut you're gob, Spike." Angel looked at him, hands buried in the pockets of his dress trousers. God, he hated the git. „I always had to do that for you. Looks like some things never change."

„Oh, they change mate. I'm not your little fledge anymore." Spike growled. There might have been a time when Spike had been bound to accept Angel as the patriarch, had looked up at him even. But those days were long gone. Spike was a hundred and twenty years old. And that was only if one didn't count his years as a human – which he probably shouldn't. Still, he had killed two Slayers, had become the youngest master vampire the powerful Aurelius Clan had ever seen and if Angel was still able to cut him, it wasn't because he was the more powerful vampire.

„Think you are your own man now, Spike, do you?" Angel scoffed, grinning. „But you forget, that I'll always be your superior. I'm head of the Order. I'm your grandsire. And you will do. As. I. Say!" He shot him a dangerous glare.

Spike snorted angrily. „You might have forgotten, that this works both ways, Angelus. When you deserted us in China a century ago, you forfeited your rights. After all it's you who claims this split personality shit. So you see, I owe you nothing."

„That's where you are wrong boy."Angel advanced, towering over Spike. „Don't make me break you down."

„You couldn't do it then," Spike glared at him, over his shoulder, „what makes you think you could do it now, that you're even more of a cissy?"

Angel lunged at Spike then. And although he saw it coming and managed to spin around to face his enraged grandsire, Spike went down under his massive weight. Angel might not be the better fighter, but in mere brute strength he always topped him.

Pressing Spike's face in the dirty stone floor Angel hissed, „You stay away from her! You hear me boy?"

„You fucking asshole!" Spike pressed out, since Angel was squashing his lungs. „You abandoned her!"

Angel stiffened. „And how would you know that?" Angel asked in that low dangerous whisper. _Shit! Why can't I ever shut my gob?_

„You went there after I told you to stay away, didn't you?"

„She's all alone, you git! She was devastated!"

„Don't try to feign that you care! What do you understand about grief, you are a killer, Spike!"

„So are you. But if I remember correctly it wasn't me who went and slaughtered my whole family as a way to celebrate my initiation as a vampire."

„Stay away from her, Spike." Angel hissed dangerously. „Your not welcome in her house, and you know it. You're beneath her."

Spike balled his fist so hard his palms bled. Angel smelled the blood and smiled.

„Good boy."

* * *

_TBC_

A/N:Thanks for reading and please leave a review!


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